Enough is Enough
by Sgt. Moffitt
Summary: Can you really blame the guy?
1. The last straw

_A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love._

* * *

The fools investigating Luftstalag 13 would never discover what was really going on, he was sure of it. Various Gestapo agents had come and gone, most notably Major Hochstetter. Each of them in turn had turned the camp upside down, disturbing everyone.

And what had they revealed? Nothing!

Idiots, all of them. Particularly Hochstetter. How blind could one man be, anyway? Not to mention Klink, whose habit of believing every barefaced lie Colonel Hogan told him should have had the Kommandant at the Eastern Front long since.

And Langenscheidt, too. After all, he had gone to Paris with Hogan and LeBeau, and yet he'd never said a word about the trip to Klink or to the other guards. Fool!

Of course, Burkhalter showed up every now and then to throw his considerable weight around, but he had a remarkable ability to ignore what was in front of him in order to preserve his own hide. The General would never be instrumental in revealing the outrageous activities of the prisoners here.

It was all so unfair, and the frustrated and justifiable anger that he felt rose in his throat, almost choking him.

The situation was becoming unbearable, and something had to be done about it. Colonel Hogan must not be allowed to continue on his arrogant, destructive course.

And it was up to Hogan's fiercest enemy to bring about his downfall. It would be poetic justice, after all, since no one had suffered more than he at Hogan's hands.

An evil grin flickered as he checked the chamber of his supposedly unloaded rifle.

_Teddy bear, indeed._


	2. The decision

_A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love._

* * *

The chamber was still empty, just as he'd known it would be. The evil grin vanished from Schultz's face and he slid the bolt back into place. He set the rifle to one side with a sigh; it just wasn't in him to kill anyone, not even the infuriating Colonel Hogan.

But his eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened as he watched the men gathered at the large table in the middle of the room. The other noncoms in the _Unteroffizierkaserne_ were in high spirits, talking over the latest escape attempt (which had been unsuccessful, _natürlich!_)

Corporal Zeller hoisted a congratulatory mug of _Bier, _crowing, "Didn't take us long to get our hands on Carter this time, did it?"

Kurtz leaned forward and clinked his mug against Zeller's. "Not long at all, my friend! How foolish of him to be lingering at the Hofbräu, when he could have been kilometers away!"

"No doubt because of the pretty barmaids there," snickered Kohl.

Huntzinger shook his grizzled head. "I would never have thought that one would be caught with a girl," he said. "I always figured him to be a naïve farm boy type."

"He's an American," said Grüler. "What did you expect? You've seen their movies!"

The others murmured agreement, and Schultz closed his eyes for a moment, taking a few deep calming breaths.

How gullible they all were. Langenscheidt was on furlough just now, but he would have been just as foolishly happy as the others about recapturing Carter...look at the way the young idiot had pretended that nothing had happened in Paris! They were all blind to the real situation, seeing only what they wanted to see.

But Schultz decided not to chastise his men for their gullibility, for what kind of example had he set them, after all?

His unfortunate strudel addiction was the reason he'd ended up under Colonel Hogan's thumb in the first place, and the always-present threat of the Eastern Front had kept him in a state of not-knowing, not-seeing ever since. Over and over again Schultz had covered for Hogan and his band of hooligans instead of exposing them, as they so richly deserved.

How could he expect his men to question the bizarre happenings at Luftstalag 13, when their Sergeant of the Guard was complicit in covering up those happenings?

_Ach, _how resentful Schultz was for being put into this position! And he resented the fact that Colonel Hogan, not the big shot, was for all intents and purposes in command of Luftstalag 13. True, the Kommandant was just as infuriating as Hogan, but it was Schultz's job to obey his orders after all, and at least Klink was _German._

Colonel Hogan always did just what he wanted to do, manipulating Klink with an easy charm that had Schultz seething with envy. And the glib explanations he gave Klink for every odd occurrence at the camp made Schultz wonder how someone as stupid as the Kommandant had managed to survive the first war, let alone this one.

And those prisoners! They always assumed that he would go along with whatever silly plan they had going, even if it might mean the firing squad for him...or at the very least, a transfer to a much colder climate.

Why couldn't they just sit out the war like normal POWs? Why did they have to get up to monkey business? Was he the only man of sense in all of Germany?

There was no justice, none at all!

Most people thought Major Hochstetter was Hogan's greatest enemy. Not so! Hochstetter only suspected that Hogan was making a fool of him. Schultz _knew_ that Hogan was making a fool of him. And like the fool he was, he continued to dance to a tune of Colonel Hogan's piping, fearful of changing the status quo.

Schultz thought wistfully of the time he had assumed command of Luftstalag 13, when the order came through for senior noncommissioned officers on the home front to receive command training. Colonel Hogan had been forced to show him some respect then, hadn't he? But then Schultz belatedly remembered how that assignment had resulted in failure and humiliation for himself, because LeBeau and Newkirk had managed to escape during his tenure as Kommandant.

He gritted his teeth as he thought: _And Colonel Hogan planned it that way, I am sure!_

Schultz was certain that all of those times when he had looked the other way, Colonel Hogan and his men had been laughing behind his back. He had been used and ridiculed, and by enemy prisoners!

It was just too painful to think about, and he decided to go to bed.

* * *

_He was struggling but they were too much for him. His desperate grip was broken and he fell backwards through the opening...down, down, down into the fathomless darkness..._

Schultz sat bolt upright on his bunk, eyes wide open and staring blindly into the darkness of the barracks. He drew a slow, shaky breath and passed a trembling hand across his perspiring brow. Again the dream! Would he ever be able to put that to rest?

No, he never would. And never would he forgive Hogan for throwing him out of General Biedenbender's plane. Or for forcing him to go along on that insane trip to begin with. Or for a myriad of other dangerous and humiliating stunts.

More memories crowded in on him and he covered his face with his hands, moaning softly.

Impersonating _Reichsmarschall _Göring at the behest of that troublemaker Marya! Impersonating Colonel Klink to get Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau out of Gestapo custody at Stalag 4! Impersonating Santa Claus for the benefit of General Schmidt, who would not have recognized an American cultural icon in any case! Impersonating a _Heer _general during that infamous trip to Paris!

Colonel Hogan never seemed to remember all the things Schultz had done for him, and at great personal risk, too!

Modeling that wedding dress for Burkhalter's niece had been the worst insult of all. Oh, he'd kept a jovial smile on his face, but he had been burning with shame inside. No amount of strudel would make up for that!

But even more infuriating—and frightening—was the monkey business that threatened Schultz's carefully nurtured and relatively safe position at Luftstalag 13.

There were so many times that the prisoners' antics had caused him trouble, and those were just the times he knew about. No doubt Hogan and his men had used him many times without his knowledge as well, making fun of him all the while. And to think how kindly he had thought of them, referring to them as "my boys"!

_Never again,_ he vowed to himself, hardening his heart.

Schultz swung his legs over the edge of his bunk and sat for a moment, thinking. No, he did not have it in him to kill Colonel Hogan. But he was more than capable of putting a stop to Hogan's activities...the only questions that remained were _how_ and _when__..._


	3. The golden opportunity

_A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love._

_Missing scenes from "Klink vs. the Gonculator". A few lines of dialogue from the episode are included._

* * *

Schultz hauled himself out of his bunk the next morning with the nightmare still weighing on his mind. He did his morning ablutions and donned his uniform, muttered a gruff morning greeting to the men in his barracks, and led the way out into the compound, which was even more dull and colorless than usual in the early morning half-light.

Each of the guards went to his assigned barracks and the rousing of the prisoners for _Appell _began. Schultz strode over to Barracks 2 and slammed open the door, bellowing: _"Raus! Raus! Raus!"_

A sleepy chorus of grunts and groans was the only response, and Schultz frowned, even though he'd heard the same thing hundreds of times before. Somehow the familiarity of the scene exacerbated his discontent, and his voice rose with real anger: "Roll call! Roll call!"

Failing to get the desired result, he stomped his foot to emphasize his point. "_Raus, verdammt!"_

Carter pulled his blanket down and stared at Schultz in a bleary fashion. "If that means what I think it means, well, that's just plain rude!"

Schultz swelled with righteous indignation. "I said_ RAUS!"_

"Leave off, Schultzie!" Newkirk swung his legs over the edge of his bunk and hopped down. "What's got your knickers in a twist this morning, eh?"

LeBeau sat up and yawned. "He is suffering from a strudel deficiency, _sans doute."_

This was quite true, but Schultz wasn't about to admit it. "Who needs your strudel, Cockroach? Nobody, that's who! Now get up, roll call in five minutes!"

All through roll call Schultz fumed, still dwelling on his grievances. After a bit of reflection, though, he realized that acting grumpy and uncooperative would not cause Hogan and his crew to stop their activities. They would simply work around him, taking it for granted that he would see nothing, know nothing!

No, he must outwit them by pretending to cooperate. Then he could gather the information that would stop their monkey business once and for all.

* * *

For the next week, Schultz took pains to be his normal jovial self, lulling his charges into a false sense of security. (Or so he thought.) He was unwilling to admit even to himself that he had missed the friendly banter between himself and the prisoners, and he firmly put that notion out of his mind, reminding himself just why he was being (temporarily) nice to Hogan and his men.

And on the following Tuesday, his patience was rewarded.

He carried out his normal barracks inspection in Barracks 1, 3 and 4, and encountered only the usual grumbling from the inhabitants as he made his way through the various items of clothing hanging from the bunks. But then he entered Barracks 2 late in the afternoon, and caught Hogan and his hooligans red-handed in a most questionable situation.

Hogan had his back to the barracks door, and he did not seem to be in a good mood. "All right, look, no excuses. How much longer is it going to take to finish this gonculator?"

Schultz paused before venturing further into the room. Newkirk, LeBeau, Kinchloe and Carter were gathered around the common room table, whereon rested a suspicious-looking oblong wooden box. Newkirk and Kinchloe immediately rushed into speech, offering excuses to their commander: there was a lack of parts for the object, something about merkeljammers, wiring relays, electronic interference and rheostats.

Schultz had no idea what any of those things were, but he happened to possess a very retentive memory. He filed away everything Hogan and his men were saying, all the while maintaining an innocently stupid expression on his face.

Hogan caught sight of Schultz at this point, and tried to pretend that there was nothing unusual going on, but of course Schultz was not fooled. Hogan and his men were desperately trying to conceal the box from his view!

The Colonel had the temerity to insist that the box was merely a rabbit trap, and he and his men were oh-so-casual about it: yes, yes, it was just a rabbit trap.

A rabbit trap! Did they think he was some kind of _Dummkopf?_ This had to be something ver-r-ry important, or Colonel Hogan would have used his customary blackmailing maneuver of saying, "Schultz, do you _really _want to know what's going on?"

Schultz noted grimly that Hogan and his men hadn't tried to bribe him, either. And so he pretended to be oh-so-casual too. He yawned, stretched, and excused himself from the barracks on the grounds that he needed a little nap.

The portly Sergeant made it to the Kommandantur in eleven seconds flat. The unusual exertion made him quite out of breath of course, but it was worth it. The Kommandant would have to acknowledge Schultz's fine detective work, Hogan's latest scheme would be revealed, and finally, _finally_ there would be no more monkey business.

And he, Schultz, would be the hero! At last he had something substantial to report, and Colonel Hogan would never know just how he had come to grief.

But that dratted Kommandant was so busy with his endless paperwork that he was refusing to see anyone. Schultz was prepared to be patient, however. Under the amused and tolerant gaze of _Fräulein_ Hilda, he settled himself into a chair in the outer office and took out a little notebook.

Schultz opened the notebook and carefully wrote down everything that Colonel Hogan and his men had so carelessly revealed to him. He looked over the damning words and nodded to himself.

"What have you got there, Sergeant Schultz?" _Fräulein_ Hilda asked politely, but Schultz wasn't about to blab about his discovery, and possibly end up having to share the credit.

"Nothing!" he told her, hastily tucking the notebook inside a coat pocket. "I have _noth-ing!"_

She shrugged and returned to her filing, and Schultz decided to make good on his stated intention of taking a nap. He folded his hands over his ample midsection and closed his eyes.

* * *

Two hours later Schultz was finally allowed into the Kommandant's office, only to be summarily dismissed by Klink before he could get a word in edgewise. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he backed out of the office, almost colliding with that annoying Colonel Hogan.

Somehow slamming the office door didn't make him feel any better.

Schultz made his way to the _Unteroffizierkaserne_ and took out his frustrations on a ham sandwich. With mustard. A man was entitled to take his comfort where he could find it, wasn't he? On that thought, he decided to have another sandwich. And a beer.

After attending to his inner _Feldwebel,_ Schultz presented himself back at Klink's office. Hilda had gone home for the day, and as Schultz brushed by her desk he knocked over a huge stack of envelopes bearing the inscription "Attention: Colonel Johann Schmidt". He hastily piled them back on the desk and went to the Kommandant's office door and tapped on it briskly.

As Schultz entered the office he noticed that the Kommandant had miraculously rid himself of the mountain of paperwork that had been covering his desk, and was in a much more receptive mood. Schultz's hopes rose as he opened his mouth to speak...

Unfortunately, General Burkhalter called just as Schultz was about to unburden himself. Fortunately, the call was very brief, just to let Klink know that the General would be visiting the next day for an inspection, and as Klink replaced the receiver, he deigned to show interest in Schultz's news.

Schultz produced the notebook and, assuming a very professional manner, told the Kommandant all about the gonculator. He could tell that Klink was impressed, and even annoyed that Hogan had the nerve to build a gonculator right under his (Klink's) very nose!

Schultz felt vindicated for all the times the Kommandant had referred to him as a _Dummkopf. _At last, he knew something! He and Klink promptly went to Barracks 2 and ordered the prisoners out, telling them to clean up the motor pool area prior to Burkhalter's pending inspection.

Hogan and his men grumbled, but they had no option but to leave the barracks. And within a very few moments, Schultz and Klink uncovered the evil machine, which had been cleverly hidden under a footlocker. Schultz was all for destroying the thing, but the Kommandant forestalled him.

"I want General Burkhalter to see this first," he said, and Schultz felt even more vindicated. His discovery of Colonel Hogan's perfidy would get attention from the bigwig himself!

* * *

The next day, Schultz was gratified to find that General Burkhalter and Kommandant Klink wanted him to gather further information on the gonculator. The two officers planned to allow Hogan and his men to work on the device, and Schultz was to observe their activities and report to Klink.

He took up his post that evening right outside one of the windows of Barracks 2, with the receiver from a two-way radio pressed firmly to his ear. Schultz's eyes widened as he watched Hogan and his men gathered around the gonculator, and he leaned closer to the window, trying to listen in on their conversation.

They were attaching all sorts of odd things to the device, but apparently since the "Lutz diagram" was not available to them, they were unable to go any further; Colonel Hogan seemed quite downcast about that. Schultz obediently relayed this information to the Kommandant over the two-way radio, and he continued to stare through the barracks window, watching for developments.

At that moment the window flew open and a bucket of water was flung out, completely saturating poor Schultz.

He wiped off his face with his sleeve and told himself that taking on such a dangerous assignment was bound to have caused him discomfort at some point. But it was worth it, if it meant that Hogan and his crew would never be able to get up to such monkey business again. Schultz closed his eyes for a moment, dreaming blissfully of a Luftstalag 13 where all the prisoners behaved themselves and treated their Sergeant of the Guard with proper respect.

_That day is almost here,_ he thought, and smiled.

* * *

The next day a _Wehrmacht _major by the name of Lutz arrived in camp, accompanied by a black-clad individual who was obviously Gestapo. Schultz was a little disturbed by this; did he really want _anyone_ to be investigated by the Gestapo, even the nefarious Colonel Hogan? But he sternly told himself that it was Hogan's own fault, after all.

After a short time Schultz was summoned to the Kommandant's office, and he was informed that now the electronics expert Major Lutz had arrived, the gonculator was to be revealed. What was more, Schultz would be doing the revealing!

Schultz cast a quick glance at the man in black, but luckily at this point Hilda offered the Gestapo man some tea, and he consented to remain at the Kommandantur during Major Lutz's investigation. Schultz heaved an inward sigh of relief; better by far that this Major Lutz be the one to discover the true nature of the gonculator, rather than his Gestapo shadow.

He kept that in mind as he proudly led the procession of Colonel Klink, General Burkhalter and Major Lutz to Barracks 2. Inside the barracks Klink told Colonel Hogan and his men to step aside, and ordered Schultz to uncover the gonculator.

Schultz waddled over to the footlocker and tilted it upwards, revealing the device. Grunting slightly, he bent to pick up the gonculator and carried it to the table in the middle of the room.

Schultz could tell that Hogan was obviously taken aback at the discovery, but the Colonel made an effort to downplay his illegal activities. "That's not a gonculator!" he lied, tapping his fingers nervously on the device. "It's a toy I made for my little niece Lila!"

Schultz scoffed at that inwardly, and it was apparent that Klink and Burkhalter were not deceived either. Major Lutz's attention, however, was fixed on the gonculator, and a slight smile was on his face as he walked around the table, examining the device.

Then he loosened the power cord from the gonculator and looked up, straight at Schultz. "Quite interesting! Would someone please plug this in...Sergeant?"

Schultz almost burst with pride to be selected by the electronics expert to help with his investigation. He took the power cord and plugged it into an outlet across the room.

He was never quite sure afterwards just what happened next. All he knew was that suddenly the overhead light went out, and there was noise, smoke, sparks, and finally a burst of flame.

Above all the commotion, he heard the Kommandant's voice:

_"Schu-u-u-ultz! PULL OUT THE PLUG!"_

Schultz quickly complied, but he could only watch dumbfounded, with the forgotten (and now detached) cord of the gonculator dangling from his hand. The smoke and the noise had subsided, and all that was left of the gonculator itself was a scorched and smoking mass of wires and splintered wood.

As for Major Lutz—where _was _Major Lutz? Klink asked that very question as he and General Burkhalter warily approached the scene of the disaster (after they had been cowering for the last few minutes near the door in true officer fashion).

The only response was the sorrowful gaze that Hogan and his men directed toward a charred and crumpled pile of clothing (complete with smoldering boots) at their feet.

The Kommandant gingerly picked up a corner of a still-smoking overcoat, and looked at it sorrowfully as well. He asked for a moment of silence for the brave Major Lutz, and Schultz found himself bowing his head along with everyone else in the room.

Once this observance was completed, General Burkhalter took himself off to deal with Lutz's Gestapo shadow, and Colonel Klink approached Colonel Hogan in a menacing manner.

"Hogan, I'm going to throw the book at you!"

Hogan frowned. "What did _I_ do?"

The big shot was really annoyed, and Schultz gleefully watched as Klink stormed, "You _know _what—you built an illegal gonculator!"

Schultz rejoiced in his heart. Finally the Kommandant was going to put a stop to Hogan's activities!

But the next moment, Schultz watched in dismay as Colonel Hogan talked his way out of a jam once more, ending up promising to never build another gonculator.

It would appear that Schultz's hopes of exposing Colonel Hogan had gone up in smoke...literally.

* * *

Schultz wasn't ready to give up yet, though, and that evening he asked to speak with the Kommandant again. How could the Kommandant possibly overlook Hogan's egregious behavior? Or accept that Major Lutz had somehow vanished into thin air as a result of the gonculator bursting into flame?

Klink had been in the Great War, just as Schultz had. He had to know what death looked like, and smelled like! There had certainly been a smell of smoke and sulfur in the air today, but not the stench of death..._that_ was a smell no one could ever forget. Not to mention that there had been no sign of human remains.

No one died in that barracks, least of all Major Lutz!

Surely the Kommandant must realize that Major Lutz's disappearing act was just that—an act. One which had surely been contrived by Colonel Hogan, for reasons of his own. And that gonculator: whatever its purpose, it was a dangerous machine, one which Hogan and his men had no business building.

But Schultz found a strangely unresponsive Kommandant when he tried to bring up the subject.

Klink leaned back in his desk chair and waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever Hogan and his men were working on, it is gone now, along with Major Lutz. And if you think I'm going to try to explain that very odd occurrence—in _quadruplicate_—to Berlin, you are sadly mistaken! The Gestapo accepts that Major Lutz was killed when the gonculator exploded, and I am not going to argue with _them_."

"But-but-but..._Herr Kommandant_, the prisoners were working on a dangerous machine! In the barracks! And if the explosion of the gonculator killed Major Lutz, should not the prisoners be held responsible?"

Klink considered this for a moment. Then he adjusted his monocle and peered at Schultz. "I don't think you want to pursue that train of thought, Sergeant Schultz. After all, y_ou_ were the one who plugged it in!"

Schultz stared at him, his mouth hanging open. And the only thought that came to mind was this:

_Colonel Hogan wins again._


	4. The mysterious bunk

_A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love._

_Missing scenes from "Sticky Wicket Newkirk". A few lines of dialogue from the episode have been included._

* * *

Schultz was understandably depressed following the gonculator debacle. His avowed intention of stopping Hogan's dangerous activities had failed miserably, and through no fault of his own! What was a _Feldwebel_ to do?

Some men might have indulged in wine, women, and song in an effort to feel better. But Schultz had a different coping mechanism: he turned to strudel in times of need, and by the end of the week he topped the scales at three hundred pounds.

Schultz reflected glumly that one way or another, Colonel Hogan was going to be the death of him. But he had to admit that old habits die hard: once more he found himself ignoring irregularities at the camp, especially if pointing out said irregularities might adversely impact his comfort or his self-esteem.

As usual for the prisoners of Barracks 2, there were a few outrageous violations of camp protocol, such as those strange men who were having their pictures taken right in the common room of the barracks! But Schultz ignored such happenings in a reflexive action of self-defense. Much safer to know nothing when faced with an inexplicable situation, especially if the Kommandant would end up blaming Schultz for it.

Still, deep in his heart, Schultz yearned for justice. Someday Colonel Hogan and his men would go too far, and then even the Kommandant would have to sit up and take notice. If only Schultz could reveal something that wouldn't incriminate himself...

But what sort of thing? Colonel Klink seemed capable of ignoring almost any strange event that occurred at Luftstalag 13. The only thing that he really worried about was his perfect no-escape record, and Schultz had to admit that despite the hundreds of escape attempts that had occurred, somehow there had never been a successful one.

However, there was one thing that always got the Kommandant excited, and that was the uncovering of a tunnel. And there had certainly been more than a few tunnels uncovered at Luftstalag 13. Not that any of them had led anywhere.

And it was odd that there had never been one found in Barracks 2, wasn't it? It was odder still, if what Schultz suspected was true: that Major Lutz had somehow been hidden by the men in Barracks 2 during the gonculator incident. He _must_ have escaped through a tunnel leading from the barracks!

Schultz's brow furrowed in thought as he remembered strange things that had gone on in Barracks 2 over the past couple of years, often just as he entered the barracks. Flickers of memory, sometimes brief glimpses of movement on the periphery of his vision...

But an actual tunnel in Barracks 2? That would be something to report, indeed, except...

Schultz frowned again when he remembered that snowman last winter: he had been _so_ sure that a tunnel was being dug beneath it. And Major Hochstetter had believed him, too, until the snowman collapsed on top of him! But there had been no tunnel underneath after all, and who got the blame for the wild goose chase? Schultz, of course!

That was one of the times that Schultz was very sure that he had been used as Hogan's patsy. No doubt Hogan and his men laughed themselves silly over that one! Schultz shivered over the memory, and decided that he would have to be ver-r-ry certain before he reported his suspicions of a tunnel in Barracks 2 to the Kommandant.

Then one day, during a routine (and unannounced) visit to the barracks, he saw it, very clearly: Kinch's bunk flying up in the air!

Surely, oh surely, there was a tunnel beneath, one which held secrets that would astound and outrage the Kommandant! Schultz desperately wanted to run to Colonel Klink with the news, but a few moments of reflection convinced him to bide his time. He just knew that the odd behavior of the bunk meant monkey business of the most dangerous sort, but he did not want Colonel Hogan to realize that Schultz was onto him, nor did he want the Kommandant to get all worked up if the bunk did not conceal a tunnel after all.

Perhaps it would be better to investigate that bunk on his own, while the prisoners of Barracks 2 were outside the building playing one of their interminable games of volleyball, or gathered together in the recreation hall for a hygiene lecture.

Schultz had to wonder sometimes why Colonel Hogan thought the prisoners under his command were at risk for catching unmentionable diseases, cut off from womankind as they were. Perhaps it was an American fixation of some sort? Regardless, the prisoners' presence at one of the lectures would mean their absence in Barracks 2.

Subsequent events delayed Schultz's investigation, however, when Colonel Klink summoned him to his office a few days later. The Kommandant was even more vexed than usual, and Colonel Hogan, who was standing meekly in front of the desk with hat in hand, didn't look too happy either.

Klink turned his monocled glare on Schultz. "Get yourself a driver and take my staff car into town. The _Orpo_ have the _Engländer_ Newkirk in custody and are holding him at the police station downtown. I want you to bring him back here immediately!"

Schultz clucked his tongue and shook his head. Hogan's men never learned, did they? All of their monkey business, and yet never a successful escape! And from the look on the Kommandant's face, something more severe than a mere thirty days in the cooler awaited Newkirk when he returned to camp. A glance at Colonel Hogan's face confirmed that suspicion, and Schultz sighed inwardly.

He saluted Klink and said, "It shall be done, _Herr Kommandant!"_

As Schultz headed for the motor pool he had to wonder if the mysterious levitating bunk in Barracks 2 had anything to do with Newkirk's own bunk from Luftstalag 13. Well, there would be time enough to investigate that once he returned from town with Newkirk.

* * *

Schultz waited impatiently in the dingy reception room at the Hammelburg police headquarters. It was annoying and somewhat humiliating to pick up a prisoner who had been recaptured by someone else, and in such circumstances, too, with a _Fraülein_ involved! It did not look good for the Sergeant of the Guard of the toughest POW camp in all of Germany to be waiting here like this, and he studiously ignored a constable who was giving him sidelong glances and unabashedly snickering.

When Newkirk finally appeared, dressed in civilian clothes and handcuffed, but apparently none the worse for wear, Schultz was therefore was even more stern than he had intended to be. He callously decided to leave the manacles on Newkirk's wrists, and gave the miscreant a cold glance, gesturing toward the door. _"RAUS!"_

The _Engländer_ tried to make light conversation on the brief trip back to Luftstalag 13, but Schultz maintained a dignified silence. Newkirk did not seem properly remorseful, in his opinion. Such reckless behavior! One of these days it would get him killed, and Schultz thought briefly—only briefly!—that it would serve the young man right.

That thought, however brief, made Schultz feel an unwilling sense of guilt. He did not wish harm to any of the prisoners, after all, no matter how much their monkey business inconvenienced, annoyed, and sometimes even endangered him. Although Schultz wouldn't admit even to himself how fond he had become of his boys over the past few years.

He sighed. He only wanted a quiet life...was that so wrong? A quiet life for the POWs would be just the thing; a quiet life spent playing checkers in the recreation hall and volleyball in the compound while they all waited out the war. It would be safer for them, and safer for him, too! If the prisoners only behaved themselves, they would be perfectly safe at Luftstalag 13, Schultz told himself. Far safer, in fact, than they had been when they were flying the skies over Germany and dropping bombs on innocent people. Certainly far safer than roaming the streets of Hammelburg chatting up strange girls!

On that thought, he gave the unrepentant Newkirk a disapproving look as they were waved through the gates of Luftstalag 13. "Was it worth it?"

The _Engländer_ gave him a cheeky grin. "Mate, you 'ave no idea!"

"_Ja?" _Schultz shook his head. "And now you are back at Luftstalag 13, safe and sound. What of that poor young _Fraülein_, is she also safe and sound?"

Newkirk's grin faltered and he hunched his shoulders. "I 'ope so, Schultzie. I really 'ope so."

* * *

The staff car pulled up in front of the Kommandantur, and Schultz hauled his prisoner out to face the music. Colonel Klink came out to meet them with an anxious-looking Colonel Hogan on his heels. But-but-but...what was this? Instead of wearing a thunderous frown to meet the erring POW, the Kommandant was actually _smiling!_

Schultz removed the handcuffs from Newkirk's wrists and pondered this unexpected development. It was never good when the Kommandant was happy, and escape attempts usually did not have that effect on him. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Newkirk apparently had no such qualms, as he said to Klink, brightly: "Usual punishment, sir? Thirty days in the cooler?"

Klink's smile became broader, and he gave an airy wave of his hand. "No, this time there will be no punishment."

Newkirk seemed almost as taken aback as Schultz was. "That's awfully decent of you, sir."

"Not at all!" The Kommandant's smile was positively diabolical at this point. "Schultz, take him away."

_"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." _Schultz grasped Newkirk's arm to lead him away, but Klink wasn't finished yet.

"To Stalag 6!" he said, with a malicious amusement that even Newkirk couldn't miss.

Schultz stopped in his tracks and stood dumbfounded, releasing Newkirk without realizing he had done so.

"Stalag 6?" he stammered, his eyes round with dismay as he stared at the Kommandant.

It was only too true. As Klink gleefully informed Colonel Hogan, Newkirk was to be permanently transferred out, as a part of a new policy he had decided upon to deal with transgressors.

"In other words, Hogan, I'm breaking up that old gang of yours!" Klink concluded, cackling in that annoying way of his.

Colonel Hogan, although stunned, tried his usual wheedling tactics. He walked over to Newkirk and placed a protective hand on his shoulder, and insisted that Newkirk was from a broken home and needed Klink's fatherly influence in his life.

Newkirk earnestly confirmed this, but to no avail; the Kommandant was unmoved, and snarled: "Take him _AWAY!"_

Schultz grabbed Newkirk's arm again, but the _Engländer_ hung back, pausing to address the Kommandant. "Sir, in leaving I'd just like to quote something I told me dear old dad on a like occasion."

The smile was back on Klink's face. "Yes?"

"_You give me a ruddy shooting pain—"_

Horrified, Schultz clapped his hand over the young man's mouth, and between them he and Colonel Hogan hauled him away to the delousing station.

It was standard procedure to force recaptured prisoners to undergo a delousing procedure on their return, not so much because they needed it, but more of a not-too-subtle message that they were once more under the control of their German captors. Schultz had always felt a bit sorry for said prisoners, but not today. The _Engländer_ had caused far too much trouble, and who knew what long-term repercussions there would be?

As he waited for Newkirk to emerge properly attired in his RAF uniform, Schultz pondered the Kommandant's edict. Perhaps this would be a good thing, the breaking up of Colonel Hogan's "old gang", but Schultz wasn't looking forward to the farewell scene that was about to take place.

* * *

A few minutes later Schultz escorted Newkirk to Barracks 2 to collect his belongings prior to being shipped out. Schultz hung back as Newkirk's bunkmates greeted him. They all seemed very uncomfortable with the situation, and why not? Despite all the previous escape attempts that had taken place, no one had ever been banished from Luftstalag 13 as a result_—_until now.

Colonel Hogan politely requested that Schultz allow Newkirk a few minutes alone with his chums to say goodbye. Schultz was about to curtly refuse, but the mute, heart-wrenching appeal from the others convinced him to give in.

"I'll wait outside," he mumbled, and quietly left the barracks.

A few minutes later Schultz knew he had to collect his prisoner, so he apologetically opened the barracks door and told Colonel Hogan that it was time. _Ach,_ it was so sad, with all of the boys looking lost and bewildered.

Newkirk was uncharacteristically quiet as they climbed into the back of the prisoner transport truck, and Schultz found it in his heart to feel sorry for him, even though Newkirk had brought it on himself.

It was such a shame, really: he had always liked the _Engländer_, despite his unfortunate tendency to pick Schultz's pockets, and despite the fact that he had been a chief participant in Colonel Hogan's schemes. He decided that he would be kind yet firm with Newkirk as he accompanied him to his new home.

Such a pity that the young man had to learn the hard way that monkey business does not pay. If only he had conformed to the rules as a good POW should! Schultz shook his head sadly. He would soon find out just how harsh prison life could be: Colonel Hogan might joke about Luftstalag 13 being a veritable paradise, but things were much worse at other stalags.

And Newkirk was going to Stalag 6, too! Since there had just been an escape of eighteen prisoners from that stalag, Schultz was afraid that Kommandant Milberger would be very harsh with his new prisoner. He sighed. Well, at least the _Engländer_ wasn't going to Stalag 17, where he would have been subjected to the tender mercies of Schultz's nasty cousin Johann. Schultz shuddered at the very thought.

But he tried to look on the bright side. Perhaps this foolishness of Newkirk's and his subsequent banishment to another stalag would teach the others—Colonel Hogan especially!—that their illicit activities would not be tolerated at Luftstalag 13. He decided that he would have a little talk with the Colonel when he returned to the stalag. Perhaps he could make the American see reason, and there would be no further dangerous activities.

And no need to investigate that mysterious bunk either, Schultz thought. Let them keep their little tunnels, as long as they stayed out of trouble.

Schultz's mustache twitched as he allowed himself a tiny smile. He felt quite magnanimous, considering the situation. If there were no more monkey business, then he and the boys would be safe, Hogan and Klink too! The war would go on quite nicely without their participation, and when it was all over they could perhaps be friends.

At this moment Schultz was prepared to let bygones be bygones, as long as Colonel Hogan played by the rules from now on. But in the meantime one of his boys would no longer be in his charge, and needed some guidance to stay safe. So he cleared his throat and began the kindly, fatherly lecture he had rehearsed:

"Newkirk, I am telling you this for your own good. You have been up to monkey business for years, I know that, but this time you went too far."

The _Engländer_ sighed. "I know, Schultzie."

"You have made a ver-r-ry big mistake," Schultz went on. "And if you wish to see your family again you must obey the rules at Stalag 6! Remember that they just had a big escape a few days ago; I do not like to think of the way they might treat you if you do not behave yourself."

Newkirk hung his head with shame and was snuffling a bit by the time the little truck stopped at a crossroads. Schultz nodded with satisfaction; if Newkirk heeded his advice, it might very well save his life!

He paused in his lecture to push aside the canvas that covered the rear compartment of the truck. He was about to stick his head out to investigate when he felt a tap on the shoulder, and he turned toward his prisoner instead.

Newkirk's normally smiling eyes were cool and determined, and his normally smiling face was curiously expressionless.

But what really caught Schultz's attention was the pistol he held so casually in one hand, aimed directly at Schultz's palpitating heart.


	5. The mysterious bunk, part 2

_A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love._

_More missing scenes from "Sticky Wicket Newkirk". A few lines of dialogue from the episode are_ _included._

* * *

As he gazed at the pistol in Newkirk's hand, Schultz's eyes grew round with astonishment and (it must be admitted) terror. He dared not utter a word as Newkirk pulled aside the canvas covering the rear of the truck compartment, looked both ways, and hopped out, disappearing from view.

After a few seconds, the truck started rolling again and Schultz recovered from his momentary paralysis. He pounded on the wall of the driver's compartment and shouted: _"Halt! Halt!"_

But of course by then it was too late, and Schultz had to return to Luftstalag 13 without his prisoner.

As the truck rumbled back to the stalag Schultz was still trembling at the thought of the look on Newkirk's face as he held that pistol. Newkirk, the _Engländer_ who was always smiling, always ready with a bar of chocolate or a game of cards; Newkirk, the fellow who always greeted him with a slap on the back and a cheerful "Hi, Schultzie!"

Newkirk, whom over the years Schultz had come to think of as a friend.

Schultz was stunned by the fright and the utter unexpectedness of it all, but what shocked him most was the sense of betrayal that bit so deeply into him. No, Newkirk was not his friend; he had been deadly serious. For the very first time, Schultz realized that his boys were not boys at all. They were soldiers; soldiers who were still fighting a war.

And Schultz was the enemy.

* * *

It was a brief trip back to the stalag, so Schultz had no time to come up with a convincing explanation of what had just occurred. All he could do was scurry into Kommandant Klink's office and sound the alarm about Newkirk's escape. That arrogant little Gestapo officer Major Hochstetter was in the office and Klink was on the phone as he entered, but Schultz paid no heed; he had to deliver the bad news.

"_Herr Kommandant_, I beg to report—"

It took a few moments before Klink realized just who was standing in front of him. He covered the phone receiver with one hand and stared at his Sergeant of the Guard, who was definitely not where he was supposed to be.

"Schultz, what are you doing here? You were taking Newkirk to Stalag 6!"

Schultz agreed with this, but sadly informed the Kommandant that he had never reached his destination. "Just one mile from here, Newkirk produced this gun, such an _enormous_ gun, you have no idea!"

This statement appeared to strike Major Hochstetter quite forcibly; he seemed to think that prisoners walking around with guns was a bad idea, and Klink hastened to assure him that this was not the usual state of affairs at Luftstalag 13. The Kommandant then hurriedly hung up the phone and addressed Schultz.

"Just before you left here, you searched him, didn't you? _You searched him?"_

The outrage on the Kommandant's face was the worst Schultz had ever seen, and poor Schultz could not admit that he had trusted the _Engländer_; trusted him to such an extent that he had not only omitted the usual pre-transfer search, he had also left the young man's wrists free of the customary handcuffs.

So he stammered (although of course it wasn't true): "I think I can say almost positively...that I believe so."

At this point Colonel Hogan burst into the office as he so often did. Klink tried to get rid of him, but Hochstetter, who was showing signs of extreme agitation, insisted that he stay.

Schultz had never been particularly intimidated by Hochstetter's blustering; the little man reminded him too much of _Onkel_ Otto's bad-tempered _Dachshund_ Maxi, always yapping and nipping at someone's heels. True, Hochstetter was very good at sneering and threatening, but although he was easily able to frighten the wits out of the Kommandant, in Schultz's opinion the Major was just a blowhard who never accomplished anything.

And he certainly blustered a lot on this occasion. The escape of those eighteen prisoners from Stalag 6 appeared to be weighing on his mind, and after a few rude remarks to Colonel Hogan, the Major stormed out.

However, the Major's ver-r-ry unpleasant (and regrettably accurate) remarks about giving guns to prisoners made Schultz uneasily aware that the blame for Newkirk's escape lay solely on his own shoulders. His foolish kindness to the _Engländer _had been repaid with treachery, and now Schultz would be held accountable.

This realization infuriated as well as frightened poor Schultz, and the anger that he felt drove him straight to Barracks 2 a little while later.

The door wouldn't open, and Schultz's fury escalated even further. He pounded on the door and demanded to be let in. This got no response, and Schultz threatened to break down the door.

Still no response. So Schultz gathered himself together and hurled his three hundred pound self against the door...which flew open with no resistance at all. The resulting momentum propelled Schultz straight into the bunk facing the door.

A bit groggy from the unexpected collision, Schultz nevertheless pounced on Colonel Hogan as soon as he regained his balance. "I have bad trouble, and I think it's because of you!" he growled. "Where did Newkirk get the gun? You will tell me everything!"

The Colonel made some soothing noises and tried to get Schultz herded over toward his office, but Schultz (although still a little dizzy) was too smart for that. "No, if you ask me to go over there, I go over here!" He walked over toward Newkirk, who was standing beside the mysterious bunk and watching the proceedings quietly. "Right, Newkirk?"

And then it hit him. _"Newkirk?!"_

"Hiya, Schultzie."

Schultz quickly recollected himself and grabbed Newkirk's arm with a triumphant laugh. "I have recaptured him!"

"Found him in his own barracks!" said Colonel Hogan, with a condescending smile that was all too familiar. "How did he get there, Schultz?"

Schultz was not about to give in to Colonel Hogan's typical blackmail. "I do not know how he got there, I do not care how he got there! The most important thing is—" He turned to a presumably unbiased observer, a young lady who was standing behind Newkirk. "I leave it up to you. The most important thing is—"

Then the mists cleared, and Schultz's eyes almost popped out of his head. _A young lady! In the barracks!  
_

Colonel Hogan's smile became even more condescending. "Explain _that_, Schultz. Especially to Hochstetter."

It was all too much for poor Schultz. First Newkirk escaped from his custody after threatening him with a gun, then the Kommandant tore strips off him in the office while Hochstetter muttered dire threats. And after Schultz descended on Barracks 2, consumed with justifiable rage, here was Newkirk safe and sound. With a _Fräulein!_

This was one of those inexplicable situations that could not end well for Schultz, so he was forced to fall back on a tried-and-true strategy. He pushed Newkirk aside and made for the barracks door. "I see _NOTHING!"_

It would seem that things could not possibly get worse, and then they did. A firm voice was heard:

"_Halt! Ein Moment!"_

Schultz stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around. "Who said that?"

The _Fräulein_ stepped forward, with a sinister look on her face that boded ill not just for Schultz, but for all the men in Barracks 2. "I am going with you to the office of the Kommandant with my report." She opened the barracks door and turned a steely smile on Schultz. "Come!"

* * *

After listening to _Fräulein_ Gretel's brief explanation of her presence, Klink lost no time in summoning Major Hochstetter back to camp. The Major arrived in record time, and his temper had not improved in the interim. The young lady had quite a tale to tell, and Schultz closed his eyes in frustration.

As it turned out, _Fräulein_ Gretel was a Gestapo informant and she had deliberately cultivated Newkirk's acquaintance while he was in Hammelburg. After he escaped Schultz's custody, he had gone in search of her and brought her back to camp with him. The mysterious bunk did indeed conceal a tunnel—that was how she had been brought into the barracks—and there were fantastic goings-on underground! Apparently Colonel Hogan and his men were rescuing downed airmen and equipping them to escape back to England. And there were plans for breaking some of those airmen out of camp by means of a paratrooper attack here at Luftstalag 13!

Schultz thought numbly of his original intention to investigate that bunk, and groaned silently. Too late, too late! This young lady had discovered more in a few minutes than Schultz had in years. But perhaps, if he kept quiet now, he would not be held accountable for that accursed bunk and the tunnel it concealed...

Schultz's hopes were dashed the next moment when _Fräulein_ Gretel said, with a contemptuous jerk of her head in his direction: "With a tunnel entrance right in his own barracks, I would certainly think that this fat one over here would have some knowledge."

Schultz immediately tried to disavow all knowledge of the tunnel, on the grounds of sheer stupidity. He felt quite certain that Klink would have confirmed this, too, but the Major wasn't interested; all he cared about was seeing this tunnel for himself. He gave a few brief orders to his men regarding picks, crowbars, and shovels.

The next moment a sudden explosion shook the camp, and Schultz tried to seek shelter under the Kommandant's desk (or at least he would have, if there had been room for him). But Hochstetter was unfazed, and scoffed at the Kommandant's fear that the paratroopers had arrived. "Never mind that! We will go to Barracks 2 and uncover that tunnel!"

* * *

Colonel Hogan was calm and collected when Schultz ushered _Fräulein_ Gretel, Klink, Hochstetter, and a couple of workmen into Barracks 2, even in the face of Major Hochstetter's triumphant sneering. The Major declared his intention to investigate Hogan's "downstairs apartment", and directed the young lady to reveal the secret passage.

_Fräulein_ Gretel gave him a smug smile and walked over to the mysterious bunk. "I saw them activate it from a hidden panel on this bunk." She started pressing the side board of the upper bunk, trying to get the mechanism to work.

But the mysterious bunk was...only a bunk. The _Fräulein_ was just as surprised as Schultz was when nothing happened despite all her prodding, and an annoyed Hochstetter had the workmen move the bunk aside. Schultz stared at the unbroken expanse of wooden floor that was revealed. No secret passage after all!

Hochstetter was undeterred, however, and ordered the workmen to chop through the floor. Meanwhile, a very military-looking personage appeared in the barracks doorway. Schultz snapped to attention, even as the newcomer complained that no one paid any attention to generals nowadays.

Schultz obediently bellowed _"Achtung!"_, and everyone in the barracks came to attention, even the workmen. For the next few minutes General von Siedelberg proceeded to make short work of an indignant Hochstetter and a discredited _Fräulein_ Gretel, and somehow Barracks 2 was left intact (except for a hole in the floor), with Klink promising no more transfers of prisoners.

It all happened so fast, Schultz didn't know what to think. But later, after Newkirk talked Klink into allowing him back in camp, Schultz came to an unhappy conclusion. That mysterious bunk should have been the key to Colonel Hogan's downfall, and yet nothing came of it.

Schultz had been watching Colonel Hogan's face as General von Siedelberg made his pronouncements, and it was clear to him now: Colonel Hogan hadn't been surprised at all...he knew exactly what the General was going to say! And now that no tunnel had been found, and there was no more threat of transfers, Colonel Hogan would carry on just as before._  
_

* * *

Schultz crawled into his own bunk that night with a feeling that he should be grateful that he wasn't facing a firing squad, after the near-disaster involving Newkirk's transfer and the very strange appearance of _Fräulein_ Gretel.

But he wasn't grateful. He was angry; angry with Colonel Hogan, and angry with himself and the sense of impotence he felt whenever he dealt with the American. Soon the anger turned to despair, though, and Schultz moaned softly. What did it matter? Nothing he did would affect Colonel Hogan's activities, and Schultz would be blamed in the end anyhow, no matter what happened.

_Enough is enough,_ he thought bitterly. They could all go to perdition as far as Schultz was concerned; he would not lift a finger to help or hinder Hogan from now on. Schultz would just look after Schultz, and not concern himself with the welfare of his charges anymore. Or with Klink's perfect no-escape record for that matter.

He heaved a sigh and pulled the blanket up to his chin, but sleep was a long time coming that night.


	6. The bolt from the blue

A/N:_ I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love._

_Missing scenes from "Clearance Sale at the Black Market". A few lines of dialogue from the episode are included._

* * *

Schultz applied a sense of grim determination to his new don't-give-a-_verdammt_ attitude toward life at Luftstalag 13. Hogan and his hooligans could have burned the camp down (with Schultz inside it) and he wouldn't have cared.

Life held no joy or purpose for him now, so why not indulge himself? Thus the Hofbräu found a regular customer in the rotund Sergeant in the next few weeks. And why not? At least there he was appreciated! The barman Karl always greeted him with a gruff "What do you want, schnapps?" when he showed up, and there always seemed to be a seat at the bar for him.

One October evening as Schultz was sitting over his schnapps and brooding over an unjust universe, he felt a soft hand descend on his shoulder. He looked up to see a pretty blonde, not too young, with a nice smile and a sparkle in her eyes.

"Have you everything you need, Sergeant?" she asked.

Eyes round with surprise, Schultz mumbled, "_Ja, ja, danke vielmals."_

Fond though he was of feminine company, Schultz seldom found himself sought out by a member of the opposite sex. True, there had been that terrifying experience with Eva Müller, the glamorous double agent who had made such an upheaval in his life some months before. But she had sought him out to gain information only (on behalf of the Gestapo, no less), and the resulting nightmare still haunted poor Schultz. He shuddered at the memory and decided not to respond too readily to the overtures of the barmaid in front of him. And after Newkirk's unfortunate experience with the informant Gretel, barmaids in general should be _verboten _to him anyway.

But this barmaid persisted in being friendly to him, and Schultz found himself warming toward her over the next couple of evenings. Other than having golden hair, Maria was nothing at all like _Fräulein _Müller. She had a pleasant, down-to-earth manner, not exotic or mysterious in the least, and Schultz felt no need to pretend to be someone he wasn't when he was with her. She made him feel special just for being himself.

Schultz hadn't felt special in a long time. His mother used to knock him around just because he was there, and lately life at Luftstalag 13 had convinced Schultz that he was useless, unappreciated, and friendless. So Maria's smiles fell on fertile ground; her apparent admiration almost made him forget that he was a mere pawn of the enemy officer Colonel Hogan, and ignored by his commanding officer Kommandant Klink.

It was a sign of Schultz's infatuation that even the despised nickname "Teddy Bear" was acceptable when it came from Maria's rosy lips. Somehow it made him feel even more special.

Somewhere in the depths of his conscience Schultz was aware that he had a wife and children in Heidelberg, but he kept that awareness buried. They were over a hundred kilometers and a lifetime away, and Schultz was determined to live in the moment. Even a little thing like the Second World War barely impinged on his consciousness in his present mood.

For over a week Schultz was in a state of artificial bliss. No guilt, no worries, no responsibilities, no regrets. Maria was like no one he had ever known: she made no demands on him and asked no awkward questions. Her flattering attention was just what Schultz needed, a balm to his wounded spirit. Or so he thought.

On Thursday Schultz collected his wages, and as soon as he was off duty he hurried to the Hofbräu, intent on making a date with the lovely Maria. She was busy with other patrons of the establishment, but he managed to draw her aside to a quiet corner.

"Tonight, I take you to the Hauserhof, for _Sauerbraten!_" he told her with a beaming smile.

Maria laughed ruefully and shook her head. "You are so romantic! But I must work until one o'clock."

Crestfallen, Schultz pleaded, "Can't you leave a little earlier?"

She dropped her eyes demurely. "You'll have to ask my boss."

"All right, I'll do it!" Schultz said. As he told Maria, surely Hermann wouldn't refuse a request from one of the brave fighting men in uniform. Greatly daring, he added, "How about a little kiss for good luck?"

"Ah, you are irresistible!" Maria cuddled close to him, hugging as much of him as she could, and somewhat to his surprise, Schultz was able to steal a kiss!

She patted him firmly on the back after a moment, and pulled away from him. "Well, I go back to work now," she said, looking a little flushed, and she hurried back into the taproom of the Hofbräu. Schultz waved goodbye reluctantly. "See you later, baby!"

Considerably elated after receiving the kiss and anticipating a pleasant evening at the Hauserhof, Schultz hummed to himself as he opened the door to Hermann's office.

Unfortunately Hermann wasn't alone. As the door swung open a cold-eyed man looked up from some ledgers, and he barked: "Don't you knock before you enter a room?"

Schultz's good mood vanished in an instant. This man was much like Klink: icy blue eyes, features twisted into a frown, bald head; all that was missing was the monocle. His hostile attitude was mirrored by the man sitting next to him, Maria's boss Hermann.

Schultz found himself apologizing meekly for what was really just a trifling error, and his request of Hermann was made in a subdued tone quite unlike the confident manner he had intended to exhibit. And it wasn't a great surprise when Hermann curtly refused to give Maria any time off.

Schultz apologized again and backed out of the room as quickly as he could. He went out into the taproom where Maria was busy serving. Catching her eye, he shrugged and shook his head, and she nodded in understanding. There would be no _Sauerbraten_ at the Hauserhof for them tonight.

* * *

By the time Schultz arrived back at Luftstalag 13 his spirits had rebounded from the disappointment he'd experienced at the Hofbräu. There would be other evenings, after all, and Maria liked him! She really liked him! Maybe he was in love.

This thought sent his spirits soaring and for some reason his footsteps led him right to Barracks 2. Perhaps he was still a little tipsy from the schnapps he'd had earlier, or else he wouldn't have entered the barracks with such abandon. He flung the door open and sailed inside, where half a dozen or so of the Barracks 2 residents were seated at the common room table, engrossed in a game of cards.

Schultz had every right to shut down the card game since gambling was _verboten, _but his mood was too exuberant. Besides, if Newkirk and his chums were so busy playing cards, they couldn't be getting up to any monkey business, could they? Not that Schultz cared about that anymore, as long as they left him out of it.

It must be admitted, however, that Schultz's principal reason for invading the barracks at this moment was because he had a lady friend and these prisoners did not, and he wasn't above gloating about the situation.

LeBeau eyed him knowingly. "Look at that smile! He saw a girl at the Hofbräu."

"Maria?" said Carter.

Schultz did not remember mentioning her name to any of the prisoners, but no matter. He smiled smugly, thinking about that kiss. "_Ach, _she is beautiful. Beau-ti-ful!"

Colonel Hogan came out of his office at that point and looked ver-r-ry interested. Maybe even envious! He said, "Don't just stand there, Schultz. Tell us about her!"

So Schultz related the story of his romantic triumph. "She let me kiss her. Affectionately, you know?"

The Colonel wanted more details, but Schultz somewhat belatedly put a stop to the discussion. "Discretion does not permit me to talk about the subject any longer," he sniffed. "I am not the man to kiss and tell."

Unfortunately that wasn't the end of it after all. Several laughing remarks were made about Schultz's weight and general fitness (or lack thereof), and he was forced to bend over to touch his toes to prove them wrong. Once he did, though, Colonel Hogan decided his men had heard enough about Schultz's romantic adventures. "It's too exciting; makes the natives restless!"

Schultz nodded wisely. "I understand. Jealousy!"

He waltzed back to his own barracks in a daze of pleasant anticipation, thinking about Maria.

* * *

The next day retribution descended on Schultz like a thunderclap from above, and his hedonistic existence was shattered into a million tiny pieces.

That morning he was idly watching a staff car rumble through the front gates, and when a bald man climbed out he blinked in surprise. It looked like that angry man from Hermann's office! Casually Schultz strolled over to the guardhouse at the front gate, where Corporal Langenscheidt was busily entering something in the log.

Schultz cleared his throat. "Karl, that man you just let in—who is he?"

Langenscheidt sighed. "Major Kiegel, Gestapo. He wants to talk with Colonel Klink."

Schultz froze inside. _Gestapo! _But he tried very hard to maintain a disinterested tone. "Do you know why?"

The Corporal shook his head. "_Nein." _He gave Schultz a look of curiosity. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Schultz mumbled. His little mistake by bursting into Hermann's office unannounced certainly shouldn't warrant a Gestapo investigation, but poor Schultz could think of plenty of other instances that might be of interest to the Gestapo. Such as all the times when he had looked the other way, instead of reporting Colonel Hogan's activities!

He gulped, but then took himself to task. Nothing had ever come of those instances, so why borrow trouble? Live for the moment, and let tomorrow take care of itself, that was his motto nowadays.

The staff car roared off again about twenty minutes later with Major Kiegel in it, and Schultz breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing to do with him after all. How foolish to worry!

And then Klink called him into his quarters where he was having his lunch. The Kommandant was smiling, which was always a bad sign, but what was worse, he offered Schultz some schnapps.

Schultz ver-r-ry correctly declined the offer because it was against regulations to drink on duty, but Klink waved that aside. "I offered you a little drink because this is a very special occasion," he said.

Well, that was different, of course. Schultz carefully poured out a small amount of the spirit into a glass, but before he could pick the glass up, the Kommandant spoke again.

"I have some very good news for you, my boy. Ah, how I envy you!"

"My boy?" Every instinct Schultz possessed went on high alert, and he eyed his superior with doubt. Doubt which was more than justified by the Kommandant's next statement.

"Schultz, I have the pleasure to tell you that you are being transferred to the Eastern Front!"

How strange to actually feel your face turn pale, Schultz thought. He could feel an icy sensation crawling over his skin and suddenly it became difficult to breathe. The unexpected blow rendered him speechless, and for a few agonized moments he couldn't seem to think either.

He grabbed the schnapps and took a healthy swig right from the bottle. Then he set it down, very carefully, and looked at Klink. Schultz could hear his own voice speaking, but it sounded as if it came from someone else. "What happened, _Herr Kommandant?_ Did I do something wrong?"

Schultz knew very well that he had done something wrong, that he had done many things wrong, and they all had to do with Colonel Hogan. But which of those many transgressions was it?

The Kommandant denied any wrongdoing of Schultz's, though. "Of course not! You're just being asked to use your knowledge and experience in the service of the Third Reich. You want Germany to win the war, don't you?"

At this moment a German victory wasn't at the top of Schultz's list of priorities. His own survival was much, much more important to him, and this turn of affairs put that survival in serious doubt.

Klink went on to explain how much Schultz was needed on the Eastern Front, and Schultz, who was feeling a bit desperate, countered with all of his personal shortcomings, mental and moral as well as physical. But the Kommandant was unrelenting, and Schultz finally had to salute his superior and take his leave.

He stumbled into the outer office, where _Fräulein_ Hilda was seated at her typewriter. She looked up, and he saw her lips moving, but he could hear nothing over the pounding of his own heart. It didn't matter, though; nothing mattered. Somehow he made it across the room and opened the door.

A few minutes later Schultz found himself in the guards' barracks, seated on his own bunk, without any memory of how he had gotten there. He looked down at his shaking hands and turned them over in puzzlement. Then the enormity of it all washed over him: his life was over, and what of his wife and children? What would become of them?

He buried his face in his hands and wept.

* * *

The next morning Schultz went to Barracks 2 for a routine inspection and found Hogan and several of his men seated around the common room table. "Don't bother to get up, it is only me," he said listlessly, and Colonel Hogan gave him a sharp glance.

"Pour our friend here a cup of coffee, LeBeau."

"_Oui, Colonel._ And perhaps some strudel?"

Schultz winced. "I could not eat a thing."

The whole room grew quiet, and finally Carter said, "Gee, Schultz, I thought I heard you say you couldn't eat a thing."

"That is right," Schultz sighed.

Colonel Hogan shook his head. "Now I _know_ something's wrong. Sit down, Schultz."

Schultz found himself obeying the American without a murmur, and some instinct for survival led him to tell the whole story. Colonel Hogan might be the enemy, but he was a clever man and perhaps he could help.

"I am to be transferred to the Eastern Front," Schultz told him, and he squeezed his eyes shut with the pain of it.

There was a general murmur of surprise, and Colonel Hogan repeated slowly, as though he could not believe it: "You're being transferred to the Eastern Front."

Schultz opened his eyes and said bleakly, "_Ja."_

There were more murmurs of disbelief, and Kinch shook his head. "Why would they pick just you?"

Schultz sighed. "I'm lucky, I guess." But he still wondered if his complicity with Colonel Hogan's monkey business had led to this disaster. This did not seem to occur to Hogan and his men, though, as they all discussed possible reasons why Schultz had been chosen for this dubious honor.

"I think somebody's got it in for him," Kinch concluded sagely.

Colonel Hogan turned to Schultz. "Have you had any trouble with any of the officers recently? No?" He frowned, thinking. "Did you do anything wrong in town the other day?

"I just went to the Hofbrau and I saw Maria." Then Schultz remembered his earlier fears regarding that unpleasant encounter in Hermann's office. "It _could_ be that Major Kiegel."

He went on to relate what had happened, and Colonel Hogan had him describe, in detail, the two men and what they had been doing when Schultz burst into the office.

"There was money on the table, and Hermann had a few bills in his hands..."

"And you interrupted them." Colonel Hogan and Kinch exchanged significant looks, and they moved to the other side of the room, whispering.

A few minutes later, Schultz decided Colonel Hogan was not going to be any help after all. He heaved himself to his feet and went out into the compound, followed closely by Hogan and his men. The Colonel asked, "When are you going to tell Maria?"

Schultz sighed. "Tonight. And it is going to break her heart."

It was all very sad, but Hogan and his men did not seem to take Schultz's plight seriously at all. They teased him again about practicing touching his toes, and insisted that it would help him survive on the Eastern Front.

Outraged, Schultz stalked off. "Jolly jokers!"

* * *

So Schultz went to see Maria for the last time. She was heartbroken, of course, and Schultz felt guilty about that. But what a fool he had been, forsaking his perfectly good wife and consorting with a barmaid in the first place! Schultz thought sadly that if Major Kiegel was indeed responsible for his transfer, he would never have even met the man had it not been for his obsession with Maria.

Well, it was too late for self-recriminations now. He must act like a real soldier and be brave about facing his fate.

But as Schultz lay in his bunk that night he did not feel brave at all.

* * *

Two days later, just as Schultz was reluctantly packing his belongings for his transfer, Corporal Langenscheidt burst into the guards' barracks. "Sergeant, you are wanted in the Kommandant's office!"

Schultz gave a bitter laugh and tossed the rucksack onto his bunk. "Why not? He cannot do anything worse than he has already." He saw the look on Langenscheidt's face and patted the Corporal's shoulder. "I am sorry, Karl, it is not your fault."

"Sergeant, I..."

Schultz wouldn't, couldn't deal with compassion right now, however well meant. "I must go."

His footsteps dragged as he climbed the steps to the Kommandantur and entered the building. He smiled sadly at _Fräulein_ Hilda and walked across to the inner office door.

Schultz presented himself in front of Klink's desk. "Reporting as requested, _Herr Kommandant."_

Colonel Klink smiled at him, but in a kindly way this time. "Schultz, I would like you to know that it was Major Kiegel, not I, who ordered your transfer to the Eastern Front."

Schultz nodded; it was just as he had suspected. And all just for interrupting a private meeting!

But the Kommandant wasn't finished. "I have received information about that Major Kiegel which should change things for you, Schultz! I am about to call General Burkhalter to confirm it, so please stand by while I make the call."

Considerably puzzled, Schultz waited for further developments.

* * *

Five minutes later Schultz was back outside. The sudden ascent from despair made him quite dizzy, and the sun was almost too bright to bear. And then he saw Colonel Hogan and a few of his men milling around near the Kommandantur, and decided he must share the good news with them.

His transfer cancelled! Major Kiegel in disgrace for black market activities, and arrested by the Gestapo!

Schultz couldn't quite take it all in. But one thing was ver-r-ry clear in his mind.

He must get to Heidelberg to see his wife and children.


	7. The fateful quarrel

_A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love._

_"Killer Klink" from Schultz's perspective. Some lines of dialogue from the episode are included._

* * *

It wasn't as difficult as Schultz had anticipated to wangle a three-day pass from the Kommandant; no doubt the big shot felt guilty about allowing that Major Kiegel to order Schultz to the Eastern Front. Schultz was even allowed to use the office telephone to contact Gretchen with the good news! And soon it was all arranged: Gretchen would take the train from Heidelberg on Friday and meet Schultz at Luftstalag 13, and then they would travel back to Heidelberg together.

The relief from the threat of the Eastern Front caused Schultz to lower his guard a bit with the prisoners, and that evening he consented to take part in a _verboten _poker game in Colonel Hogan's quarters. He even deigned to make small talk with them.

Kommandant Klink was always telling the guards to watch what they said in front of the prisoners, although Schultz never really paid any attention to that edict. It was a shame, therefore, that he made an unwary reference to his upcoming leave to Heidelberg during the card game.

He really should have known better, for right after Schultz unexpectedly won the card game, the Colonel dragged him back into his quarters to ask him to deliver a package to Heidelberg!

Of course Schultz had to refuse such an outrageous request. As he told Colonel Hogan, "It would be worth my life!"

Schultz had repeated that phrase many, many times before, though, and it _never_ did him any good. Nor did it do any good tonight. Colonel Hogan proceeded to tell him a silly story about a girl named Liesl, who just happened to live in Heidelberg, at 55 Badenstraße. A ver-r-ry tearjerking story, too; Schultz could have sworn he heard sentimental music in the background. He even found himself wiping away a tear, as the Colonel wistfully suggested that sending flowers to Liesl would assure her of Hogan's undying devotion.

But Schultz didn't believe a word of it. The story was just _too_ corny.

Especially the Colonel's mention of walking with the angelic Liesl under an _Edelweiß_ tree! Schultz chuckled inwardly. He thought that perhaps Colonel Hogan was not too well-informed about the native flora of Germany, so he was inclined to give him benefit of the doubt on that score. Still, it was quite an effective story; perhaps the Colonel should write romance novels in his spare time.

But Schultz was ver-r-ry certain that there was no such person as Liesl, and the Colonel's purpose in sending flowers to Heidelberg could only come under the category of monkey business. There was no sense wasting time trying to argue with the glib-tongued Colonel, though, so he agreed to make the delivery as requested.

He could always dispose of the flowers on his way to Heidelberg, couldn't he?

* * *

On Friday, Schultz hummed to himself as he headed toward the front gates on his way to meet his wife. As he rounded the corner of Barracks 2 he was accosted by Colonel Hogan and the little Cockroach. LeBeau had a pot of flowers in his hands to be taken to the lovely Liesl.

Schultz took it, with a little joke about being a man of the world and capable of exerting discretion regarding Hogan's love life. The next moment he spotted Gretchen, who had just been allowed into the compound by the guards at the gate. He hurried over to her and gave her a kiss, right in front of everyone!

Gretchen seemed happy to see him, and she assured him of the children's well-being, and that of Mama, Papa, _Onkel_ Otto and _Tante_ Fritzi too. She asked if he had everything, and he handed her the flowerpot, saying, "Carry this, will you?"

Gretchen said, "How thoughtful!"

And that was where he made his first mistake. He replied, without thinking: "It's not for you."

She gave him a suspicious glance. "Then who?"

"I will explain later, my little dumpling!"

Gretchen ignored that and picked up a little card from among the leaves of the plant. She peered at it and read it aloud.

_"To my own little Püppchen, in remembrance of that starry night...Tiger."_

She looked up at Schultz, outrage all too evident on her face. "For your girlfriends, you have flowers. For me, your old socks and underwear!"

A ver-r-ry unpleasant discussion ensued, with words such as "overweight Casanova", "tubby", "barrage balloon", and (worst of all) "divorce" being flung about. Colonel Hogan and the Cockroach hurried over and tried to make peace, but to no avail.

And that was where Schultz made his second mistake.

In a rage, he tore up his furlough papers. In response Gretchen thrust the flowerpot back at him and stormed off. Schultz stalked off in the opposite direction, not even bothering to watch her go.

The Colonel and LeBeau followed him, assuring him that Gretchen was crazy about him, and that all great love affairs involved some degree of arguing. Schultz grumbled, but after a few moments he began to have second thoughts and was able to calm down a bit. He turned around to go after his wife, but then stopped in his tracks, remembering.

"My pass, I tore it up! They won't let me leave the camp without furlough papers!"

Going to the Kommandant for replacement papers turned out to be an exercise in futility. Instead of receiving a new three day pass, Schultz was condemned to thirty days of company punishment. Klink was furious that Schultz would have dared to tear up anything with his signature on it, and he told Schultz spitefully: "You are going to be a tired old man before you ever set foot outside this camp again!"

* * *

Over the next few days poor Schultz had plenty of time to repent of his hasty actions. As he marched double-time with a full field pack, he thought of all the terrible words he had flung at his dear Gretchen. His devoted wife, who never complained about having to work in a munitions factory, as well as caring for their children! Bitter regret washed over him, and he had to admit to himself that the things she had said to him had some justification.

Yes, he was indeed tubby. And he had been acting like a Casanova, too; poor Maria must still be nursing her broken heart! In the depths of his despair Schultz was forced to acknowledge that he would never have been so angry with Gretchen had he not felt so guilty about his flirtation with Maria.

If only he could see Gretchen and make amends! But the Kommandant had made sure that would never happen. The only respite offered during those days was a visit he was supposed to make to the 13th Army Hospital for a physical exam, and even that came to naught when the hospital was closed by order of _der Führer_ for National Health Week.

So he went to his barracks to sneak in a nap during the time he would have spent at the hospital. And then, a miracle. Colonel Hogan stopped him as he emerged from the barracks, and told him that his furlough had come through after all! Schultz was so excited, he didn't even stop to think how the enemy officer had come by that sort of information.

He even reminded the Colonel about the flowerpot, quite forgetting that it had been the cause of the fateful quarrel in the first place.

"If it isn't too much trouble," Colonel Hogan said.

"I insist," Schultz replied. In the joy of the moment he thought that he might even deliver it, too.


	8. The flowerpot

_A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love._

_A missing scene from "Killer Klink"._

* * *

Schultz was elated to get confirmation of his furlough from the Kommandant: a whole week, not just three days! But he decided that he wouldn't tempt fate by asking Gretchen to meet him at Luftstalag 13 as before. She might still be so angry with him that she would refuse to do it!

So he planned to surprise her instead.

But during the train journey to Heidelberg, doubts began to creep into poor Schultz's mind, and he wondered uneasily if Gretchen had forgiven him yet. If only he hadn't handed her the flowerpot when she came to the stalag! If only Colonel Hogan hadn't given him the flowerpot in the first place! He looked down at the wretched thing, which was resting innocently on the seat beside him.

The flowerpot seemed to symbolize every unpleasant thing that had ever happened to Schultz since Colonel Robert Hogan had come into his life. Why had he agreed to deliver the flowerpot, anyway? This particular item had caused him a world of trouble, precipitating the terrible argument with Gretchen, his wife, his confidant, the only person in the world whom he could trust! Perhaps he had lost her forever.

And it was all Colonel Hogan's fault, as usual. Anger with the American rose in his heart again, such a righteous anger!

Schultz decided to get rid of the flowerpot the first chance he got.

* * *

After arriving in Heidelberg, Schultz was somewhat apprehensive as he approached the shabby little house that he called home. He had the flowerpot in one hand and a small box of chocolates (obtained at a staggering cost from the black market) in the other as he walked up to the door.

As he raised his hand to knock, the door swung open and Gretchen was there. Her eyes widened with surprise, and a delighted smile appeared. But her gaze immediately went to the flowerpot and she sighed. "Hansi, you never learn, do you?"

Schultz looked down at the flowerpot in dismay. How could he have forgotten to dispose of it? Gretchen would have every right to be angry! But to his astonishment, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him instead.

Schultz mumbled, "Gretchen, I must..."

She put her fingertips to his lips and shook her head. "We have a visitor."

"A visitor?"

She looked back over her shoulder, in the direction of the sitting room. "It is Johann, I'm afraid," she said in a low voice. "The children are trying to entertain him. Here, let me take that."

She put the flowerpot on the hall table and helped him remove his greatcoat. As she did so, Schultz thought about Johann, his cousin and the bane of his existence. Sergeant Johann Sebastian Schultz was a prison guard like Schultz, but at a camp in Austria. He did not visit often but it was never pleasant when he did.

Schultz had been looking forward to this pass so he could spend time with Gretchen and the children, not with his unpleasant cousin who also happened to be a fanatical Nazi. But the very fact of Johann's evil political convictions meant that Schultz and his family would have to pretend to be glad to see him.

Schultz sighed and looked at the box of chocolates in his hand. "These were for you, Gretchen," he said sadly, "but..."

She smiled and whispered: "None for Johann, I promise you! I'll put them in my apron pocket and we'll share them with the children, later."

In the sitting room four blonde and blue-eyed girls perched stiffly and silently on a settee, facing the unwanted guest. Aged ten through fifteen, they were well-scrubbed and dressed in their somewhat shabby best. Their eyes brightened when they caught sight of their father, but no boisterous welcome was forthcoming, not with the visitor present.

The fifth child, a redheaded little boy, was peering over the back of the settee, his eyes like saucers. Wolfie was actually Schultz's nephew, but his parents were dead and so now he was part of Schultz's family. Like his cousins he, too, was well-scrubbed and unnaturally silent.

Schultz turned to Johann and greeted him with some misgiving, although his cousin was his usual jovial self. Jovial in appearance, at any rate. His bulbous nose and dimpled chin would have made him a good candidate for an American Santa Claus, if only one could ignore the coldness in his eyes.

Schultz knew him only too well, remembering how his cousin used to take pleasure in pulling the wings off flies in the days of their youth. Now he was talking about "his boys" in Stalag 17, and obviously relishing all he had done to make their lives even more miserable.

_If only I were more like Johann_, Schultz thought with a brief touch of cynicism, _Colonel Hogan would behave himself!_

But then he saw the horrified looks on the faces of the children as they gazed at Johann, and he said sharply, "Gretchen, is it not time for _die Kinder_ to get ready for bed?"

The children leapt to their feet as one, hurriedly brushed Schultz's and Gretchen's cheeks with goodnight kisses, muttered polite goodbyes to Johann, and vanished from the room. The eldest girl, Sofia, brought up the rear, herding them along like an anxious _Schäferhund._

Johann watched the children exit, and gave a booming laugh that didn't affect the flat coldness in his eyes in the least. "Dear little ones! Never mind, Hans. I must be going myself; I have to be back at Stalag 17 in the morning and I have a train to catch."

Gretchen fetched his overcoat and helped him put it on. Johann thanked her, and paused in the tiny hallway to peer at the flowerpot that sat on the hall table.

He flicked one of the leaves with a contemptuous finger. "Flowers, Hans? You sly devil! Better watch him, Gretchen—he's up to no good."

Gretchen drew herself up, looked him in the eye, and lied through her teeth. "Hansi often brings me flowers."

Johann snickered. "Proves my point."

"No," said Gretchen. "Hansi brings me flowers because he is a kind and good husband."

Johann raised his hands in mock surrender. "Oh, very well! I can see that I shall have to start bringing my own wife flowers—can't have Hans showing me up. _Auf Wiedersehen!"_

_"Wiedersehen." _Schultz closed the door firmly once his cousin had crossed the threshold.

Gretchen pressed her lips together tightly, and then shook her head and sighed. "I am sorry, _Liebling._ I know he is your cousin, but I cannot stand him. He is one of _them_."

"Them?"

"A Nazi." She picked up the flowerpot and marched into the kitchen, with Schultz following her meekly.

She set the flowerpot on the kitchen table and turned away to busy herself with the teapot. Meanwhile Schultz dropped into a chair with a gusty sigh.

Gretchen spoke without looking at him. "The flowerpot again? Really, Hansi!"

With a frown Schultz pushed the flowerpot across the tabletop, as far away from him as he could. "It is from Colonel Hogan, to be delivered to Liesl, the girl who had him arrested when he was shot down over Heidelberg."

"I thought you told me that he was shot down over Hamburg."

"_Ja, ja_, he was, the Kommandant told me so. But..."

"Aha!" Gretchen pounced on this. "Monkey business, is it not? I should have known it was Colonel Hogan's doing when I saw you at the stalag with that same flowerpot." She turned toward him with a determined glint in her eye. "It is always monkey business with Colonel Hogan, you have said so yourself."

"_Ja,_ it is monkey business all right, but this time I will have no part of it." Schultz glared at the inoffensive plant. "I shall drop this in the rubbish bin."

She put a cup and saucer in front of him and began to pour out. "No."

He stared at his wife in confusion. "No?"

Gretchen sat down opposite to her husband and calmly poured tea into her own cup. "You are angry with Colonel Hogan."

"Of course I am, Gretchen! This flowerpot business is just a small part of what I have had to deal with. You do not know what those prisoners have forced me to do, how much trouble they have caused for me!" He added, sadly, "Or how much they laugh at me."

She cut him off. "It does not matter, does it?"

"How can you say that?" Schultz grumbled.

Gretchen took a sip of her tea. "Hansi, five years ago you were the owner of the Schatzi Toy Company, the largest in Germany. You managed it well and kept your employees working, even during the hard times. You were a proud man and you were determined to support your family, even when the Nazis took over your factory for war production. So you lied about your age and enlisted in the Luftwaffe. And you have continued to be a good man while serving as a prison guard—not at all like Johann is."

She paused and reached out to grasp his hand. "But things have changed, Hansi. Now these prisoners, of whom you used to speak so affectionately, and who used to amuse you so much, make you angry instead."

Schultz opened his mouth to speak, but she shook her head, silencing him. "You used to be a fine figure of a man, but now you weigh much too much. You gamble away half your wages. And do not get me started on those barmaids you have been trying to romance!"

Schultz's eyes almost popped out of his head. "B-b-barmaids?"

"Barmaids," Gretchen said sternly. "_Tante_ Fritzi has a friend in Hammelburg, as you know very well, and the woman was very happy to give her all the details!" She sighed. "But I forgive you, because I know you would never go beyond a few stolen kisses. And also because I know that no girl in her right mind would seriously consider you as a lover."

Chastened, Schultz mumbled, "I am sorry, Gretchen. You are right, it went no further than that; I suppose it made me feel important. But I have already decided not to see any more barmaids. Because of my stupid behavior, I almost got sent to the Eastern Front, and it would have served me right!"

At Gretchen's horrified exclamation, he went on to relate what had happened at the Hofbräu, and all about the Gestapo officer, his transfer order, and how the order was rescinded when Major Kiegel was arrested.

"_Sehr gut_." Gretchen's eyes softened and she gave a sigh of relief. "But you understand why the strudel, the barmaids, and the gambling, don't you?"

Schultz just looked at her, unable to speak.

She smiled sadly. "_Liebling, _you have suffered so many losses since the Nazis came to power. Your company, our lovely home, the respect you once accepted as your due. Now we live in this shabby little house, we are eking out a living between my factory work and your duties at the Luftstalag, and you are forced to knuckle under to a Kommandant who constantly belittles you. Plus, you are in charge of prisoners who are not only involved in some very questionable activities, it seems that they are not showing you proper respect either."

"That is all very true," Schultz said, and heaved a sigh.

"I am not surprised that you are angry and depressed, and doing anything you can to feel better. But you have been at Luftstalag 13 for several years now, and somehow you've dealt with all those issues one way or another. Until now. There is something more, is there not?" Her eyes were intent on his.

Schultz's broad shoulders slumped, and all at once he looked every one of his fifty-nine years. "You are correct, _Liebling. _I am not stupid nor am I blind, no matter what the Kommandant and Colonel Hogan think. And I don't choose to believe everything Herr Goebbels sees fit to tell us, or anything Colonel Klink has to say, for that matter."

He pushed his cup and saucer aside and looked up at her. "Gretchen, Germany is going to lose this war."

His wife tightened her grip on his hand, and said, "I know. But it's not as though you agreed with the present regime anyway—or with the madman who rules this country. Remember that September day in 1939, when our armies invaded Poland? You were home on leave, here in Heidelberg with me. "

Schultz nodded slowly.

"And I held you as you cried. We both cried because even though we had tried to explain away _Kristallnacht,_ and the _Anschluss, _and the annexation of the Sudetenland...this we could not ignore. And you said: _Enough is enough._"

"Because it was wrong. So wrong...all of it."

"_Ja._" Gretchen's eyes were full of tears. "And look what has happened since! Hansi, Hansi...we cannot protect our family from the Nazis. The best we can hope is for the Allies to bring a swift end to the war."

"So what do we do? Pray for liberation?" Schultz sighed. "It won't be liberation, it will be occupation. And there will be vengeance, you know there will. The Russians grow closer every day."

Gretchen shook her head decisively. "No. The western Allies will reach us first. The Russians will be eager to take Berlin, and I am sure _der Führer_ will order it to be defended to the last man...or child."

Schultz gazed at her with respect. "That is true! But what can we do? The western Allies will be bent on vengeance too."

Gretchen nodded slowly, her face set in sad lines. Finally she said, "Hansi."

Schultz shot her a look.

"I am going to ask you to do something," she said. "Something very difficult. But you must do it for the sake of the children."

"What?" But he knew what was coming.

Her answer was blunt. "Sink your pride, and accept your role at the camp."

Schultz began to protest, but Gretchen was adamant.

"So what if they make use of you, and make fun of you as well?" she said. "You have dealt with Colonel Hogan and his men for years now; think of all those times you have helped him in the past! Why should you not carry on as before? Perhaps Colonel Hogan will be able to speak for you when the Allies come!"

Schultz looked up sharply, remembering. "He _did_ write a letter of recommendation for me once." He sighed. "Of course, the Kommandant confiscated it."

She nodded. "It is possible, then, is it not, that he might do the same in the future? _If _you cooperate now."

"But, Gretchen..."

His wife paid no heed. "You have always maintained that you are a neutral. So you have no interest in protecting the Nazis, do you? Your only duty is to protect yourself and your family. And the best way you can protect our little ones is to cooperate with Colonel Hogan." Her eyes began to twinkle. "I have a strong suspicion that your Colonel Hogan was the one who saved you from Major Kiegel and the Eastern Front, after all."

Schultz's eyes widened as it all became clear to him. The one time he landed in trouble entirely of his own accord, and somehow Colonel Hogan rescued him anyway! He should have known.

He sighed as he realized what he must do. Yes, he would cooperate. But then a sly grin appeared, an expression that better suited Schultz's normally easygoing personality than the frown that had graced his brow for these past few weeks. There was no reason why he couldn't have a little fun with the Colonel, was there? After all, he still had to act the part of a guard, didn't he?

It might be ver-r-ry interesting to keep the American on his toes. Good practice for him, too! Schultz chuckled softly, picturing it in his mind.

But there was still the little matter of the flowerpot. As if she could read his mind, Gretchen pushed it back across the table toward him.

"And the first thing you must do is to deliver this flowerpot, just as Colonel Hogan asked."


	9. The return to camp

_A/N: I don't own Hogan's Heroes and I don't get paid for this; it is truly a labor of love. _

_Blümchen is the adorable creation of snooky-9093, featured in her terrific story "With a Song in My Heart", and is used in this story with the kind permission of the author._

_Epilogue to "Killer Klink"._

* * *

All was serene at Luftstalag 13 as Sergeant of the Guard Hans Schultz strode briskly through the compound. The sky was blue, the sunlight twinkled along the barbed wire, and there was the usual dusting of snow on the ground. The Sergeant drew in a breath of the frosty air and nodded to the guards at the gates, who promptly saluted him.

Schultz smiled to himself. It had been ver-r-ry good to go home to see his wife and children, but it was good to be back on duty, too. At last he had a purpose and a plan for the future, and he felt he could deal with whatever came his way. Even with the double-time marching with a full field pack that the Kommandant had ordered him to do on his return.

The unwarranted punishment had come as a surprise to Schultz, who couldn't understand why the Kommandant had been so angry, just because Schultz had not gone for his physical at the hospital after all. But the too-innocent look on the face of Colonel Hogan, who was present in Klink's office when the order was handed down, made Schultz suspect that he had been made a patsy once again.

Why, Schultz did not know. Maybe it had something to do with that flowerpot, maybe not. Sometimes it was truly better to know nothing, even though he was paying the price for Hogan's scheme with all this marching. But Schultz tried to look on the bright side: he actually found the unaccustomed exercise exhilarating, and over the last two days he had lost three pounds!

He was nearing one of the guard towers now and he glanced up. The never-ending volleyball game was in session, and the guards were paying more attention to the game than to monitoring the perimeter of the camp. Schultz sighed, shrugged, and kept marching.

A few moments later Corporal Langenscheidt approached with Blümchen on the end of the leash, and the wretched _Hündin _growled at Schultz as the pair passed by. Schultz growled back (under his breath) and moved along, thinking that some things never changed.

Finally he turned his attention to the people who were Luftstalag 13's reason for existence: the prisoners.

Some of them were strolling the compound in groups of two or three, and a large group was engaged in the volleyball game. The volleyball strayed in his direction, and Schultz neatly fielded it and tossed it back to the players, all without breaking his stride.

As he came further into the center of the compound he saw that Carter had set up a bench in full view of the Kommandantur, and was happily splashing his way through the week's laundry. Schultz prudently decided to give him a wide berth.

Newkirk was seated outside Barracks 2 and was showing a new arrival and some interested observers a card trick. He winked at Schultz and then pulled a card from his sleeve, amidst a gasp from the newcomer and hoots of derision from the rest. Schultz suppressed a snort of laughter and shook his head as he walked by.

The little Cockroach, LeBeau, stepped out of the barracks and gave Schultz a friendly wave. Schultz nodded in return but did not slacken his pace, even though a tantalizing aroma of strudel wafted through the open door. (But he did decide to make a surprise inspection of Barracks 2 a little later on.)

Then he saw Kinch and Colonel Hogan engaged in low-voiced conversation near the delousing station. As Schultz drew near, Hogan turned toward him with that innocent smile.

"And how are you this fine morning?" he asked, tilting his cap to the back of his head.

Schultz only gave him a brisk nod in return, since he was currently occupied with his double-time marching and he hadn't _quite_ forgiven the American yet for his presumed role in the punishment. He strode on, toward the very edge of the compound.

At the fence Schultz turned around sharply, and paused for a moment, looking over the compound with a benign nod of approval. He was glad to see that all of his charges were occupied, and safe for the moment. For the moment! Monkey business was no doubt afoot, and concessions would need to be made in the near future. And no doubt Schultz would be called upon to risk life and limb once again, in an effort to conceal the activities of his boys.

His boys. His infuriating, disrespectful, unpredictable, happy-go-lucky boys!

It was enough to make a man ripe for murder, but Schultz only smiled. Their hearts were in the right place, after all, and they had a job to do. What was his lost dignity when compared to the truly terrifying vision of the Nazi regime continuing to blight his children's future?

And there were compensations, of course. LeBeau's strudel, the friendly give-and-take with Kinch and Carter, the card games organized by the _Engländer_ Newkirk, the chocolate and cookies from the Red Cross packages that the prisoners shared with him...

And Schultz had to admit that his boys kept life interesting at Luftstalag 13. He chuckled as he remembered the way the Kommandant so often suffered a dousing of water during the monkey business. And the way Major Hochstetter stormed off after every visit, never once proving that Hogan was the most dangerous man in all of Germany!

And the way he, Schultz, knew nothing, _nothing!_ Well, he was very good at that, was he not? One must use one's talents to survive in this war, he decided...no matter which side one was on.

He hoisted his unloaded rifle onto his shoulder and marched off, beaming.

* * *

At the delousing station Kinch gazed at Schultz's departing figure. "Glad to see Schultz back to his old self. Look, he's even smiling."

Hogan nodded. "Yep, and doing double-time with a full field pack, too. Gotta feel a little guilty about that, since poor Schultz wasn't in on the whole rapid-aging gag that got him that furlough."

"Well, he really is a good guy," Kinch said seriously. "Maybe we should treat him better."

"Yeah, it's a shame. But for his own protection we've got to give him a hard time, you know. Can't have the other Krauts think he's fraternizing with the enemy."

"There is that, sir. Still..."

"Kinch, I know how you feel," Hogan said. "And I can't do anything about it now, but you better believe the minute the Allied tanks roll through that front gate, Schultz's will be the first hand that I shake."

Kinch smiled, remembering all they had put poor Schultz through over the last couple of years. "I might even give him a hug."

Hogan laughed. "I probably won't go that far. But I will definitely testify on his account to the High Command."

"They already have a pretty good dossier on Schultz and how he's contributed to the operation," Kinch pointed out.

"It sure won't hurt to put in a good word for him, though," Hogan replied. "I would do it anyway, just because he's a decent guy and has treated us with compassion. But picture this, Kinch..."

"Yeah?"

"You remember some months back when LeBeau and I made that trip to Paris to get the painting of _The Fifer _copied? Unfortunately, while we were still in Monsieur Verlaine's garret, a couple of Gestapo goons came calling. All that stood between us and a firing squad was one fat Luftwaffe sergeant masquerading as an army general. He saved our bacon that day, Kinch. He's saved us more than once."

Kinch nodded feelingly. "I know."

The two men watched Schultz march around the corner of Barracks 3 and disappear from view. Hogan shook his head, almost in wonder. "Just think about it for a minute. If it weren't for Schultz, there wouldn't _be_ an operation."

Kinch smiled. "And there he goes. The biggest Hero of them all."


End file.
